


Tousle

by makesometime



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dragon Age Kink Meme, F/M, Hair-pulling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-18
Updated: 2014-12-18
Packaged: 2018-03-02 02:18:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2796071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makesometime/pseuds/makesometime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Never usually backward in coming forward, she hates her hesitance to ask for more. As open as they've been with each other regarding their fantasies and wants, and this is her stumbling block?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tousle

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for a prompt at the Dragon Age Kink Meme. Got a touch carried away with what is arguably one of my biggest kinks...

It takes her a long time to counteract his fear of hurting her. She's a strong woman, built well and shaped by muscle honed through months of fighting, but he's still bigger, still so much bigger, and it's difficult for him to reconcile that size difference. She can still remember the horror in his eyes the first time he saw bruises on her hips, left behind by eager, grasping hands. It was too similar to the look he gave her when he found out what she did to get him out of Val Royeaux.

She's more than happy to never see it again.

Roughness, they find, comes far too easily to them. Whether it's lingering resentment, or perhaps insecurity, maybe even the sheer reckless force of their love, she isn't sure, but the fact remains. Teeth and nails are her primary weapons, working over his skin in the heat of passion in a tandem that she's well versed in through the use of dual blades. Blackwall's touch is heavy, harsh if not measured and intent; his arms used to controlling sizeable weapons as his legs hold firm beneath him. It works for them, and as time passes and she doesn't break beneath him like he expects, it grows to be achingly good.

It feels ungrateful to want for more. He's given her so much, in and out of the bedroom, loved her as deeply as she does him, his affection as desperate as she cannot quite accept in herself. The Maker has been good to her, perhaps to offset the whole saviour of the world shtick that she didn't exactly ask for.

Oh, but she is greedy. She always has been, living life to the fullest before the time came for her to accept her familial lot in life.

Her greed remains unspoken, however, a strange form of cowardice overcoming her. She doesn't want to risk him not agreeing, or laughing off her request expecting that she can't be serious. Instead it's easier to enjoy the times it happens accidentally, to cherish the memories as dear friends.

She still remembers the first time he tangled his hands in her hair when she sucked at him, the way it made her moan in surprise around his cock and the way that made his fingers tighten, the sparks of pleasure shooting over her scalp growing to a delicious pleasure-pain. Her toes had curled as a shiver chased down her spine and she redoubled her efforts, bringing him to spill over her tongue quicker than he could deny her.

She's pretty sure he didn't even know what he was doing, lost in a haze of orgasmic release. He certainly didn't mention it afterwards. Regretfully, neither did she.

To feel like she’s actually doing something in the face of her uncharacteristic timidity, Tessa starts leaving her hair down more often, letting it brush over her shoulders, fall in her face, get horribly knotted by the pillow and the force of his thrusts. It makes her feel a little wild, and she knows he likes it, eyes following her appreciatively when she can finally bring herself to leave their bed of a morning. She lets it grow, long enough to curl above the rise of her breasts and lend a sense of false modesty.

Eventually, he starts to act on that appreciation. His hand will travel up her arm, around the back of her neck and into her hair when she kisses him. He'll pull her closer and she'll mewl against his lips, moving over his lap as the fire burns hot in the grate behind them. And yet he doesn't linger, not yet, not tempted enough by the curl of silken strands around his fingers or her halfway-desperate pants of desire as his fingers massage her scalp.

Never usually backward in coming forward, she hates her hesitance to ask for more. As open as they've been with each other regarding their fantasies and wants, and this is her stumbling block?

Regardless. They’ve both got enough tricks up their sleeves that she never, ever goes wanting. To be focused on one small thing is foolish.

She chides herself one evening when he stubbornly keeps his hands on her ass, her breasts, and she feels a slight disappointment. He's hard beneath her, her core rocking into the laces holding him back from her. They catch at her clit and she smiles, nipping at his lower lip before starting to slide down his body. She keeps her eyes fixed on his face as she moves, kissing his chest and teasing her fingers through the trail of hair that disappears into his waistband. His lazy smile as he settles more firmly against the headboard does silly things to her insides, twisting and sparking with lust.

She undoes the laces with quick fingers, tugging them apart enough to roughly pull his pants down and off. As soon as she lowers her head to make teasing licks to the tip of his cock his hands find her hair and Tessa groans, the vibrations making him take a better hold.

She presses her hands to his hips, his legs, struggling for a place to clutch at as both of his hands wind deeper into the dark mass of her hair. How he can be so unaware of what he’s doing to her when he’s so good at reading her body is astounding, and thoroughly distracts her from her initial intent. She sinks down on him, tracing her tongue over the underside of his length before swirling back up to the tip. She hums when he tugs, holding her still for a moment’s weakness of thrusting up into her mouth.

Tessa looks up to see his eyes screwed shut, the muscular plain of his torso pulled taut. His arms, which hold such a powerful strength, are tense as his hands curl into tighter fists. He is fighting the urge to take her mouth without realising that if he just keeps up his hold on her hair she’d give him pretty much anything…

She shifts a little, feeling the ache between her legs, knowing that with just a little more she could break. Almost as if he reads her mind one of his hands jerks hard and she has to pull off him, she has to, the shooting pleasure over her scalp making it impossible to breathe. She moves back with a gasp, his fists reflexively clenching enough to really _pull_ and she shatters, her hands flexing on his thighs, nails scratching a bit as she pulses around nothing.

" _Maker_." She breathes, struggling to catch her breath as she shudders.

His cock is warm against her cheek, twitching at the sudden removal of stimulation. She feels him shake as he fights the urge to draw her back, as her breath tickles the crease of his thigh.

"Tess?" He asks, voice husky and needy and so positively confused.

She aches, pressing her thighs together and feeling the pinch of her throbbing clit. She nearly cries out again but bites it down, sitting back on her heels and looking up at him with wide eyes. He mutters a dark oath, something about her swollen lips and flushed cheeks making his hips buck searchingly.

With a small growl she descends on him again, swallowing him down with a hunger that she's rarely felt. It takes precious little to bring him to his end, the hot spill of his release pairing with his surprised shout and a tightening of his fingers that damn near breaks her again.

"What was all that about?" He asks when she crawls up and flops down beside him, resting her head against his shoulder.

When she doesn't reply, Blackwall rolls over her and puts one hand between her legs, groaning a bit at the wetness he feels. She normally gets off on tending to him but never quite this much, not without his hands on her. Tessa whimpers when his thumb brushes her clit, arching up into him with a whispered _yes, please_.

He brings her off with two fingers and another few flicks of her nerves, laughing to himself as she murmurs his name over and over like the Chant.

She doesn't find her tongue for a good few minutes and in that time the moment passes, forgotten in favour of yawns and the pulling up of blankets. But the curiosity in his expression as he gathers her to his chest for sleep gives her an odd flickering of hope that hasn't existed before.

-

It's a bad fight that triggers it. They’re on the verge of victory in an unwanted battle against a giant in the Emerald Graves when his buddy walks up behind them, eager to join in the fray. Low on health and stamina Tessa is knocked clean out, leaving the rest of her party to finish off the fight.

She comes to with Blackwall's hand heavy on her stomach as he crouches beside her, Dorian and Cass hovering nervously behind him. He doesn’t say much beyond a meaning-laden _my lady_ , but it’s the look in his eyes, the deeply hidden fear that he allows to flicker through for just a second... that hints to there being more to come.

Upon their return to Skyhold her suspicions turn out to be true. He all but herds her up the stairs to her chambers as soon as she's cleared by the healer, his hands holding wherever he can reach, bodily pressing her up into the bannister more than once to steal her mouth in breathless kisses.

It's like their limbs are controlled by outside forces as they stumble to the bed, pulling and ripping at clothing, grasping and squeezing at solid muscle, soft flesh. Their sole intent, it seems, is to be as naked as possible in as short a time as they can manage, leaving a trail of abandoned clothes from the top of the stairs to mark their passage.

Blackwall backs her up to the bed much as he always does, but when her calves hit the frame she tuts, holding firm with two arms looped around his neck. She won't let him force her back, no matter how hard he tries to get her to buckle.

"My turn for once." She whispers impishly, before moving lightning-quick to spin them round and force him to the mattress.

He falls heavily into a seating position, grunting when she follows him down, sitting over his thighs. His cock is trapped between them and she reaches down to wrap her fade-touched hand around him, smirking when he gasps.

"Rogues." He huffs, followed by a deep rumbling laugh as he takes large handfuls of her backside.

"You love it." She replies, stroking her hand up and down him a few times. The fade energy sparks once before dying out, leaving her palm clear and her lover firm beneath her touch.

His mouth quirks and he gives a little shrug, reaching one hand further forward between her legs to circle her entrance with a thick finger. "Something like that, my lady."

Tessa smiles as she presses her lips back to his, a few chaste kisses turning deeper when his finger slips inside her. She licks the crease of his mouth as she rocks back on him, her free hand clutching at his shoulder. When he parts for her she moans, letting her tongue delve deep and swipe against his own.

The hand not preoccupied with playing along her core moves up her back, chasing gooseflesh along her spine. Tessa shudders when he takes a hold of her neck and angles her head to allow him to deepen their kiss, clenching her hand around him and swiping her thumb over the glistening tip of his cock. He nips her lower lip in retaliation and she giggles, pulling back to stare at him.

She moves her hand up to cup his face, tracing her thumb over his beard and threading the tips of her fingers into the hair at his temple. In response, Blackwall leans into her, pressing his mouth to the curve of her neck, biting and soothing the mark with his tongue. Without comment he moves his hand up into her hair, thoroughly tangling his fingers and then drawing his hand to a first.

"Like this?" He murmurs into the skin of her throat.

Tessa keens, her back bowing sharply to press her breasts more firmly into the warm expanse of his chest, her nipples catching on the dusting of hair there.

"Apparently so." He says almost to himself, his smug ass grin warm against her skin.

" _Harder_." She moans, head spinning with the revelation that he's learnt, he's willing. He's not going to refuse her.

Yet he pauses, stilling for a moment. Weighing the choice, perhaps. Before his grip grows firmer, individual strands catching in fiery points and making her buck against him.

"Yessss..." Her voice is not her own, the drawn-out confirmation torn from some deep part of her soul. She lets go of his cock, his sharp exhale fluttering over her shoulder, and lifts herself up on her knees.

He draws his fingers from her and takes a hold of his length, helping her settle down over him. Tessa struggles for breath as he fills her inch by inch, the sensation mixing with the tingling of her scalp to create something totally new.

"By the Maker you're wet." Blackwall says, his voice tinged with an awe that she could get used to.

She can do little but chuckle, sliding down until he's seated fully within her.

"More." She commands, heady with arousal, gasping when he tangles up more of her hair, the pricking of sensation travelling over ever more of her scalp.

Tessa arches, rolling her hips slowly until he almost slips from her body before sharply pressing back down with a sigh. She rocks with a wanton laziness that is entirely at odds with what she's asking of him, building their arousal slow and steady.

"Please, _more_." 

"My lady..." He pulls back to watch her face, uttering the words with the anxious concern of a man almost too far gone to put voice to his thoughts.

"Do it! Pull harder!" Tessa whines, clawing at his shoulders. "Trust me!"

He does, of course. Hesitant or not, he can't deny his trust in her.

He yanks, hard, until her head is pulled back and she laughs through her moan of pleasure, her hips making a jerky rhythm in search of something to push her over. She can feel his eyes on her and hears the vulgarity spilling from his lips at the way she clenches around him. If he's cursing her reaction or his own she isn't sure, hasn't a care to tell.

His head falls forwards and his forehead rests against her collarbone, his hand blindly fitting between them to rub at her nerves. She can feel his panted breaths down over her breasts and with the extra stimulation, Tessa breaks. Her scream echoes lewdly throughout her chambers, out through the open doors to the mountains beyond.

"Shit, Tessa." Blackwall groans at the feel of her orgasm, surging up to his feet and turning them so that she falls onto her back beneath him. He leans over her so that his hand doesn't leave her hair, bracing his weight on one hand beside her shoulder. She cranes her neck and arches her back when he tugs and chuckles to himself, remaining steadfastly away from her.

"You want more?" He asks, a little taunting, rolling his fingers within the mass of her hair and tugging alternate strands with the motion.

Tessa opens her eyes, struggling to focus on him. "Always."

She hooks her legs around his hips when he settles back over her, thrusting in one smooth movement to fill her completely. She winds her arms around his back, content to let him lead this one if he'll just keep... on... pulling...

He tugs her hair in time with his thrusts, the latter deep and searching, harsh and unforgiving. He's seeking his own end but not at the expense of her own, every time he bottoms out making her shudder and whimper and _need_. More, always more. Always him.

He comes with a roar, the sound possessive and wholly satisfied, the sharp shallow thrusts and reflexive clenching of his hands drawing Tessa to her end right along with him. She welcomes his bulk as he collapses against her, smoothing her hands down his back, painting lines through the sweat lingering on his skin. 

Eventually he moves from her, rolling and carefully moving his hand free of her hair. With a thoroughly contented sigh Tessa uses the last of her energy to roll with him, resting bonelessly against his chest. His arm comes around her, a hand settling heavy on her hip as they lie awkwardly sprawled across her bed.

"How long?"

It takes a moment for her brain to catch up, but an understanding of what he’s actually asking comes with a moment’s thought.

"Weeks, at least." She says, her voice scratchy and used. She smooths a hand over her forehead, wincing when she feels the mess that used to be her perfectly straight hair. "A month or so after the final battle."

"Maker, I'm an ass." He laughs, stroking his hand up and down her side. "Must think I'm oblivious."

Tessa chuckles too, kissing his chest and snuggling closer as air from outside filters through into her room to kiss at her damp skin. “Far from it. I should have simply asked you.”

“Any other secrets I should be preparing myself for?” He squeezes her hip, his lips finding her hairline. 

With a snicker she pats his stomach, hiding her smile in the welcoming warmth of his side. “That would be telling.”


End file.
